


Mischief and Storm-Chaser

by wizardinredconverse



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Constantine (TV), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), DCU, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Gen, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-05-28 21:38:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15058334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizardinredconverse/pseuds/wizardinredconverse
Summary: Clyde Mardon is given a second chance at life. With his brother dead, a new born baby girl, and freaky weather powers Clyde is completely out of his depth. So when a weird, fast dude in lightning offers a way out of a life of crime and a fresh start, Clyde takes it. He never even thought about a life without crime before, but with Emmy's health concerns and her own possible powers, Clyde doesn't want to risk any more than he needs to.Tommy Merlyn learns very quickly that being a bad ass warrior does NOT run in the family. Yeah, his dad was an evil super-villain who had murdered him. His half-sister, Thea, is also a good fighter.  So, Tommy is raised from the dead thanks to the League of Assassins in hopes of making him into a warrior puppet like his father was at one point. But, despite their best efforts the League comes to the conclusion that the more training he gets the more shit of a warrior he becomes and kicks him out. Tommy travels around in the middle of nowhere until he mixes up with the wrong person. That person being a chain smoking, flirty, drunken, British man who is a terrible magician. Tommy Merlyn learns very quickly he's got quite the nack for magic.





	1. Emmy and The Octopus.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a fucking clue of what I'm doing. I just thought this up and decided I was going to write my first fan fiction. One way or another this will be completed, I don't have anything really pre-planned, but I will finish even if the ending is terrible. I intend it to be multiple chapters, and am super open to suggestions. This is also unedited. I haven't watched any of the shows in a little bit, so my memory of what actually happens is a little flawed but its an AU so whatever. I do have a down syndrome character in here. Ive never written a character with down syndrome before so if anyone has any ideas or experiences on how I can do a better representation, then let me know. I do want to a good job on that. I'm just kinda winging it here.

When Clyde first found out that Emmy was on the way he first thing he thought of was how he was going to hide it from Mark. He loved Mark. But, he didn't want his brother around his baby. Mark wasn't a person you wanted around someone so little, fragile, and so precious. After that, it had occurred to him that he had knocked up a girl he didn't know while still on parole and he didn't know a thing about kids. He wasn't ready to be a Dad. And then it had occurred to Clyde that he was pretty much the same as Mark. Someone would be crazy to want someone as awful and dangerous as him around a beautiful baby. He didn't even know anything about Emmy yet, at the time, apart from showing up on a positive pregnancy test. Yet he still was already concerned about her well being. 

Myra, the one night stand, had decided to carry to term. She wasn't sure about kids yet, but had said she was pro-life or whatever and wanted to go through with it. It was the first parole that Clyde ever had that he put extra effort into following the rules on. He valued family, and that was what this baby was. Even if the chances of only seeing her on weekends was the only thing he was probably ever going to get, he was going to be there for his new member of his family. After that, the next few months was full of making sure he had a solid legal job, visiting Mark who was still in jail, making sure that his parole was going well, that he made all his meetings, and finding super adorable baby things. His favourite was this stuffed octopus that the baby was going to get when they were born. It was expensive, but it was made out of a soft material that was made to make sure the tiny fuzz strands of the stuffy wouldn't come out and be swallowed while his darling was teething. Myra was fine with it. She found it kinda cute that Clyde seemed even more excited than she even was. 

Things went down hill at the 5th month of pregnancy. Clyde and Myra didn't have any medical care and not too much money, so when they decided to go in for a screening they got unexpected news. The baby was a girl. The first girl in the Mardon family since Clyde's great grandmother. Clyde was over the moon, he was already coming up with baby names and was even planning to go buy one of those baby name books from the store. But then the doctor had other news. His wonderful little girl was also showing signs of possibly having down syndrome. It wasn't for sure yet. Further testing still needed to be done, but it had kinda killed the moment a little. The taxi ride was silent on the way back. Clyde's thoughts were full of thinking about what type of education she would need?, if she would need any medication?, will she make friends?, will she be happy?, will she have a peanut allergy?, would he be able to give her the extra help she might need? It had finally occurred to him that he knew OF down syndrome, but he didn't actually know what it really was. And after a few all nighters of googling, he still didn't know what it was. But when he looked at the little octopus across that room, he found himself smiling. Either way, he was excited to meet her, down syndrome or not. Granted, he was still freaked the fuck out. But as he was go ogling it occurred to him that she was no less special or fantastic than if she didn't have down syndrome. She would be no less a person, and she would be no less his daughter. After Clyde finally slept for a good 12 hours he started looking at baby names and trying to pick a colour to paint the nursery for when she stayed over. 

Myra didn't come to the same conclusion he did when doing her own research. Clyde wondered if her negative perspectives was because of what she found on the internet or if she already had these prejudices before. He quickly dismissed that train of thought. It didn't matter where and why it was happening, it was and it was going to harm his baby's well being when she came into the world. Mark had been in many fist fights, and many various arguments, and while not all of them ended up in him punching someone it was pretty close. There was no punching or hitting in this fight, but it was the most brutal fight he ever fought. In the end he won, but it didn't feel as much like a victory than it should have. Myra wouldn't give her up for adoption like she was thinking of, he would be able to keep his baby girl. But Myra was out for good, no child support, no contact, and he could have what little baby stuff she had already gathered and then after delivery she was his. Clyde wasn't sure how he felt about raising a kid alone. He was sure that he was going to be able to see his baby on weekends while Myra had her the rest of the time (like it was when he and Mark were growing up with his parents), or maybe being able to visit while she was at whatever foster family she was stuck with. He didn't like the foster care idea either way, but he wasn't sure if child services would give him much of a choice. But the closer Myra was to being due, the more sure that he'll put up a fight if they did come for her. 

His little girl was 8 months along when Clyde came up with calling her Emmy. He had found an old picture of Mark when they were kids. It was long before they had started picking pockets, stealing tires, running drugs, and doing whatever they could to make that extra cash. Clyde had a flash of a memory of when he was just coming into the first grade and Mark in the third grade. Kids at school had only just then realized that Marks entails were M.M. and took too calling him "M&M" for a short while before switching to "Emmy" for years to come all the way up till Mark dropped out of high school. Mark never stopped them from calling him Emmy, which is odd for Mark. He didn't usually like nick names, but Emmy was somehow okay. Clyde suspected it was because the cute girls were the ones mostly into calling Mark "Emmy" more than anyone else. So Clyde decided to name him after his brother, the only other person in the world that Clyde actually loved. He still hadn't told Mark about Emmy, but he was beginning to feel that he should. Clyde decided to tell him on the next heist, the one that would be Clyde's last,so he could go off and raise Emmy right.

After 36 hours of labour, Emmy Ariel Mardon was born on December 8th 2013 with all her fingers and toes and was 7 pounds and 15 ounces. The doctor had been right about the down syndrome, but the ultrasounds didn't do her any justice in how beautiful she was. Myra didn't want to hold Emmy, but she did look and smile at her and hold her little hand. Clyde was just happy she did that. After an overnight in the hospital Clyde was aloud to take her home. The nursery was a light purple with some light blue accents with glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. Clyde wanted to paint some little pictures on the wall but decided not to since his art skills were shit. So there were little decals of fish instead. The octopus already in the crib along with Emmy's baby blanket. Emmy was sleeping, she fell asleep on the taxi ride earlier. The driver had gushed over Emmy and took the quietest streets he knew on the way back and wouldn't except any payment and gave him his phone number if he ever needed babysitting or support. Chas Chandler was the first friend Clyde had made in awhile and he would forever be in that dude's debt. As Clyde looked down at a sleeping Emmy he knew he should probably get some sleep while he could. He had yet to know if she was a good sleeper or not. But he couldn't bring himself to go back to his room and leave her. So Clyde got himself a blanket and a pillow, and set himself up on the floor next to her crib and fell asleep to the gentle sounds of her breath and the sounds of Central City traffic out in the street. 

December 11th 2013 the particle accelerator exploded. Chas was watching Emmy for the night while Clyde was pulling off the last heist he would ever do with Mark. While they were in the mini getaway chopper, Clyde would tell Mark about Emmy and that he was leaving crime behind. Except for maybe the occasional shop lifting. But before he could get a word out something hit the chopper and sent a electrifying jolt through Clyde that hurt like a motherfucker. Next thing he knew, he was on the ground and about half a football field away the chopper had crashed and was on fire. A storm had broken out and Mark was nowhere to be seen. Clyde pulled himself up and crawled towards it. He was too weak to walk and one of his legs wasn't bent the way it should be. But, it didn't matter, he had to find Mark. The chopper was covered in flames by the time, Clyde got there. There was no way Mark would still be alive if he was till in there. Clyde would have cried but passed out from pain and exhaustion instead. 

When Clyde came to, he was bandaged up and in his bed back in his shitty apartment. He could hear a soft cry of a baby, who he was sure was Emmy from her nursery. When he tried to sit up a gruff voice called out to him to "get back the fuck down mate, if you know whats good for yeah." He turned to find Chas sitting at his bedside with a large glass of water and some heavy painkillers, wearing a look that said Clyde would have explaining to do. 

Clyde lost track of time after that. Being a single Dad took a lot of time and energy after all. He didn't even know what month it was never mind the day. Chas for whatever reason stuck around, said he knew people who had done worse and just continued to get worse. He was used to the troublesome ones. Chas took Emmy to doctor's appointments when they came up since Clyde was still recovering and trying to stay off the police radar again. It was about 6 months after the storm caused by the particle accelerator explosion when Clyde found that something was a little different about himself. He was exhausted and trying to find the octopus for a crying Emmy but couldn't find it and was getting frustrated when he created a little rain cloud over the sink in the kitchen. At first he didn't know where the hell it came from but once he found the octopus under the crib and calmed down a bit the rain clod went away. After some experimenting, Clyde found that if he worked at it he could make the could appear and disappear and he could move it up and down and all around. He kept it over the sink to prevent water from going anywhere. Emmy loved the rain cloud. It always seemed to calm her down, and she enjoyed falling asleep to the ambient sounds of the rain. After Chas found out about Clyde's new talents, he had a surprisingly small freak out but then also found the sound of rain made him homesick for London and also fell asleep to the sounds that reminded Chas of home.

3 months later, Clyde found himself battling it out with a fast kid who moved around with lightning of some sort. The strange lightning boy gave him a offer something like "You don't have to do this" and "I can help you". It reminded Clyde of those sweet and all too goody-goody heroes in movies trying that one last chance to talk down the bad guy. Never before had Clyde seen the bad guy genuinely say "yes" to the offer. Then Emmy flashed into Clyde's mind who was with Chas again at the moment. In that moment Clyde decided to shake it up a little and said "yes". Clyde let his storm calm down, and then a sound of a bullet sounded. There was no pain, but Clyde found himself on his back. The lightning kid was crouching over him and whispered "play dead". From that moment on, Clyde's life got weirder than he could ever had imagined.


	2. Pink Crayola Sidewalk Chalk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote last chapter in the middle of the night so I decided to try and give a little more into this one. So I added conversation. I probably won't go back and edit the last chapter. Even if its more show then tell, it seems to be decent enough. I've only posted on chapter and I'm already getting a surprising amount of support. Thanks so much! I hope you like this chapter too.

Tommy would rather be having a threesome. He actually would rather be doing anything else but this, the threesome was just the most preferable option. Instead he's in some sort of jungle, and he has no idea where the fuck the League has left him. The only thing he was sure about is that he probably wasn't in Canada. Canada doesn't have wild parrots, they have bears. At this point he's seen like 97 parrots, and no bears. At least he's not alone anymore. Granted, the only other person he's seen for the past month is currently passed out in his makeshift bed smelling of sweat, beer, and cigarettes. There was the faint smell of something else too, Tommy had no idea what it was but he was sure it wasn't anything nice and classy. The guy was white, blonde, and had an unbelievably nice trench coat. London Fog brand. Tommy had to admire the guy's taste in coats. London fog was not a high end brand like Tommy was used to growing up, but it was a brand of quality. They looked nice, fit nice-ish, and lasted a really long time. The guy had been also wearing a cheap ass tie, probably from an H&M or something. Tommy had used that to tie the man's hands behind his back. Judge him all you like, but Tommy didn't want to take the chance that this guy was like a Spiral spy or something. He also removed pretty much everything from the dude's pockets. Phone, wallet, 3 packs of cigarettes, lose spare change, a small bible, a broken lighter, rosary, small bottle of holy water, 4 stakes, a crap load of salt, charcoal, bright pink crayola sidewalk chalk, a passport, multiple weird ass small blades, a sharpie, a crumbled unisex adult magazine, strange coins from nowhere Tommy knew of, and various other strange and normal items. Tommy appreciated the magazine, and found the amount of pockets on the guy impressive. 

If the expired driver's license wasn't a fake then the dude's name was John Constantine. He was a Brit, and probably watched way to much Supernatural. The salt was a dead give away. At least Tommy had enough to possibly make some shitty jerky of some sort. The sun had finished going down an hour ago and it was just settling into twilight when John woke up. Tommy didn't have any of his usually hangover cures on hand so he held a badly split coconut to John's lips.

"Drink, you're hungover and I don't have any Advil." Tommy commanded. He hoped the slight taste of coconut would be enough to help with the nasty hangover. If one can somehow wind up in the middle of fucking nowhere while drunk, there would have been serious alcohol consumption going on. John seemed to tired to question the fact that a weird stranger was holding a coconut to his lips, so he complied. 

John spoke, his voice raspy. Raspy from cigarettes or whatever happened during the drinking frenzy, Tommy wasn't sure. But that was one hell of an accent. "Do you have a drink at least?"  
John's eyes were still closed, probably not wanting to open them due to any kind of light and hangovers not being a match made in heaven, even if the sun was down, so he clearly wouldn't know how stupid his question was. Even going by that logic, Tommy wasn't really that impressed and that was coming from someone who had done unbelievably stupid shit after too many jello shots and margaritas on a fairly regular basis. 

"No, and I don't think finding a drink is going to be the number one thing on your list of problems right now, man." 

At that, John finally decided to lazily open his eyes and have a look around. His upon seeing lots of tropical wildlife and a guy who clearly had been out here for awhile, John shot up trying and failing to free his hands head turning left and right frantically trying to figure out what the hell. "Okay, I'm going to ask you only once, mate" John flatly said, eyes dark and dangerous and slightly psychotic. "Where am I? and what did you do to me?" 

Tommy was a little scared, he'd seen that same look on way to many dangerous people than he'd ever have cared for. But he wasn't scared enough not to be an asshole about it. "Well, for what I've done to you is that I found you under a coconut tree and dragged you back here, emptied your pockets and tied you up with your own cheap tie. I saved your life you know! About 150 people die from coconuts a year." Tommy poked at his small fire, making sure more of the kindling was tossed within the fire's reach. "As for where we are? No fucking clue." 

John seemed to think about that answer, frowning as he mulled it over. And Tommy guessed that he found the answer decent enough to calm down. 

"Fine, sure, okay, think you could untie me?" 

Tommy shrugged, he didn't see why not. Tommy want over and started working at the knots. Bringing a knife to cut him free seemed like a bad choice in the already fragile relationship. John seemed to appreciate that on some level cause once Tommy got the tie off his wrists and gave it back, John didn't lunge for him or anything. 

"John Constantine" John didn't reach out to shake hands, but he seemed a hella lot more friendly than before. "Did you happen to keep my smokes?" 

"Tommy Merlyn" Tommy said and started to rummage around in his stuff to pull out a pack of the earlier found smokes and tossed it towards John. Who fumbled the package a little but gained a grip on it and pulled one out and lit it in the fire. 

John took a few puffs before choking on the last one and coughing. "Wait, hold on! Tommy Merlyn? like Oliver's friend? The one who is dead?" 

Tommy nodded "Well I was for a bit. But yeah, same one." Tommy awkwardly poked at the fire, avoiding eye contact. He didn't want to have to share with this man some of the shit he's had to put up with since his rise from the coffin so to speak. But then curiosity got the better of him. " How do you know Oliver exactly?" 

"I've worked with him on the odd job or so, done a few favours for a friend." John shrugged. It seemed that Tommy wasn't getting less vague, but he already suspected that the favors were linked to Oliver's extracurricular activities. And he wasn't going to beat around the bush with it either. 

"Favors that are involved with Oliver's green shooty shooty adventures?" If it turned out that Tommy was a little off base with what he thought John was talking about, then this could just be craziness he could blame on being in the wilderness all by his lonesome for too long. But it seemed like that wasn't the case, if John' raised eyebrows were anything to go by. 

"So you do know? Bullocks! Does everyone know he's the Arrow?" John let out a laugh "I like the bloke, but he's such a dumbass." 

Tommy snorted but he didn't really disagree. Before and after the boat crash and the island, Oliver's logic skills were not that great. They sat in silence for a bit, Tommy poking at the fire and John smoking at his cigarette. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but it wasn't not awkward either. Small talk didn't seem like it would work in this situation. 

"So how did you wind up out here? Even with the amazing amount of alcohol you probably drunk by the smell of you, the alcohol alone wouldn't have got you all the way out here." Tommy thought these were valid questions. They were in the middle of fucking nowhere and probably here by some of the weirder means. 

"My ex-wife is angry at me." John said "and my friend was tired of me moping in his swamp." John took another puff of his cigarette and looked up at the stars, which were now starting to come out of hiding above them. "Trouble is, I don't know which one of them sent me here. If either of them did. But I figure I'm out here in some connection to my ex-wife." 

Tommy dwelled on that for a moment. Would it be rude of asking about this ex-wife or this friend. If they had the ability to somehow get John here, then maybe they had some sort of means to get them both out. At least eventually.  
"Why's she angry at you? Your wife, I mean." He had to ask, there was nothing better to do. "If you don't mind me asking of course."

John shrugged "Nah, its alright." he said before throwing the few remains of his cigarette into the fire. "She's always mad at me, been mad at me since the moment we met. Why is she mad at me now? No idea. I suspect that though the house choose to go with her in the divorce, I think it still might like me more.I'm the fun parent." 

Tommy was pretty sure that houses didn't have feelings or have any say in custody battles. But, he decided to let it slide.  
"Oh." Tommy lamely exclaimed. Like seriously. What does somebody say to something like that?

"Yeah." came a short reply. John seemed a little bummed out, even if the sentient house was crazy it still definitely mattered to John. And with how Tommy's life was going, Tommy could totally understand that. 

"So how did you wind up not dead" John prodded "That's probably quite the tale. Was it Midnight? demons? Spell gone wrong? alternate universe? Time travel fuck up? Did you fake it like every other bastard?" As the rather wild list of guesses grew, John started kicking off his shoes and peeling off his socks and placing them a little bit away form the fire and moved closer to the flames to enjoy the warmth a little. The trench coat and tie were discarded on a log behind John. John's long sleeves were already pushed up in a half assed manner, only partially rolled and more scrunched up. Even with the warmer weather wherever the two men were, there was nothing quite like the warmth of a good fire. It was too bad John didn't have any of the makings for smores in the insane amount of pockets he has. 

"Naw, ever heard of the good ol' League of Assassins?" Tommy assumed John had cause John made a face that was a cross between pity and annoyance. 

"BULLOCKS!" John yelled at the sky. Then he let out a little laugh and rubbed his eyes with one hand. "Those little fuckers! Again? damn." 

Tommy was a little confused, he was clearly missing some important information here. "I take it this has happened before?"

John nodded "You are about the third poor bastard to be raised from the pit in the past ten years. Rumour has it that the pit, or at least that one, was destroyed. Not that that will really help. Once The League wants something, it might take awhile but they get it, one way or another. Also I think they have more pits."

After being with The League of Assassins for around 8 months Tommy already knew about this. But it was still comforting to know he wasn't the only one who felt the same way about the group of extremists. "They kinda dumped me here after they found out that the more time and energy they put in trying to make me like carbon copy of my Dad was useless. Killing me would have been a waste since it took all that work to raise me from the dead, and they also might need me later." Tommy shrugged. There was probably more to it then what he overheard them saying and from what they told him. But he probably wouldn't find out anymore anytime soon. 

"Why did they give up? Were you too stubborn?" John seemed to turn to a little flattery, sensing that the light-ish mood was fading out. But, Tommy was quick to put a stop to anything that would make him seem more than he really was. 

"Nope, I was just a super shitty ninja. They more they tried, the more awful I got. Sure I can throw a pretty good punch and my own decent enough against a bar brawl, but turns out anything past that is a dud. I once was training for 2 months in archery. Oliver is basically my brother through our apparently shared sister Thea, and he can do archery pretty well, Dad is the fucking dark archer as it turns out, and Thea can work a bow too. So they assumed I could do it. They were so wrong. I end up with the arrow in the roof, floor, or even be behind me. And don't get me started at swords." 

The night went on with stories of all the the League's attempts at training him at something, and him failing it. The only stuff Tommy could actually be decent at was the meditation, the spy language training, and some self defense/ hand to hand combat. But not to the League's satisfaction. John seemed to find these stories amusing and in return shared some of his supernatural disasters, some epic fails he did while learning magic, and slightly cringe worthy tales of his grunge days. Then one thing lead to another, and they began sharing embarrassing Oliver stories that Oliver would kill them both over if he ever found out they got out. 

"Well, I'm pretty sure nobody is going to come looking for me, the only people who know I'm here is the League and I doubt they are going to actually come and rescue me." Tommy asked, he had come to except after the first week had passed that he probably wasn't going to get rescued and finding anyone was unlikely. But he found John, so that was something. "Any chance your ex-wife or your friend is going to come back and get you? I'm kinda sick of being in the jungle." 

"No, Nobody's commin' for me. Not when I can leave whenever I like." John mused, and eyeing up his cigarettes clearly thinking about having another one. 

While John seemed comfortable and sure with his statement, Tommy was plain old confused. "How the fuck are you going to leave? I've been out here for like a month and all I've seen are you, parrots, bugs, and trees." 

John just rolled his eyes and huffed "Pass me my chalk would you?" and made an approving grunt when Tommy threw it at him. 

John then put back on his shocks and shoes and started to gather his stuff. Tommy leaned back against a tree trunk behind him and crossed his arms, making a point to look rather unimpressed. John was working at putting his stuff back in his pockets. An unlit cigarette resting between John's lips, to avoid spreading fire anywhere but the carefully made fire pit. Then John started to make strange symbols with the pink chalk on the tree trunks till it made a slightly uneven ring around them. John then took several of the water filled coconuts around in the Tommy's terribly made, makeshift hut. 

"Hey, what the hell!" Tommy started but John shushed him. 

"Anything here that you want take with you? special rock, favourite parrot? Something you snagged from the League?" 

Tommy huffed but got up to also gather his stuff. Even if they did dump him in the middle of nowhere surrounded by parrots, they did actually let him keep most of the stuff they gave him which included some of the weaponry they assigned to him, a few books and maps, knifes, a spork thing, a blanket, clothes, a toothbrush but no toothpaste, and an early iPod touch complete with charger and shitty airplane earphones,and a travel bag to store all this crap in. While Tommy thought this was actually surprisingly thoughtful, he had no idea what they thought he could do with it out here. He had no way of charging it and there was no WiFi. 

"Alright" Tommy said, officially signalling that he was giving into John's craziness. "Now what?"

While Tommy was busy making sure he got all his stuff together and that the fire was properly put out, John had been busy making another circle with yet another symbol in a cleared out area in the ground in the middle of the tree ring. This bigger ground symbol seemed to be made with a stick rather than the pink chalk. In one hand john was holding a tiny pile of salt with a little bit of the ash from the fire pit. 

"Sand here in the middle with me, and hurry up we don't have all day." John said using the salt free hand to wave Tommy over. Tommy then moved towards John careful not to smudge any of the lines. When Tommy got within reach of John, John grabbed Tommy's shoulder and pulled him even closer. Tommy could smell the stink of cigarettes in John's gross morning breathe. To be fair, Tommy has been brushing his teeth with coconut water for the past little while so he had no room to judge. 

"You ready?" John asked. Half smirking now and looking Tommy straight in the eyes. 

Tommy found himself swallowing before getting out a little "yeah." 

Then with one hand still gripping onto Tommy's shoulder, John dropped the salt and ash mixture at their feet. 

At first, Tommy didn't really notice a difference. But then he heard a car honking and then the sound of faint city traffic flooded his ears. Tommy looked around to find that the tropical jungle was long gone and in it's place seemed to be a small apartment. The lights were off and it looked messy, but it was clear this was clearly home to someone. John was still standing in-front of him , his half smirk was now a full on smirk. Tommy decided to ignore it in favor of rushing to the window and looking at the street below. Cars were driving on the wrong side and the taxi cars were black. In the distance showed an ad and a very distinct symbol of the London underground was in the ad's corner. There were a lot of other give aways were present like just how the pavement looked, and how many chimneys were on each roof top. But one thing was very clear, somehow they were still in London. They were in London and all that magic John was going off about is real. 

Tommy turned back towards John, eyes wide. "Woah." Was all he could get out. 

John Constantine was of course still smirking and finally lit his cigarette. "Yeah, I know."


	3. What The Green Doesn't Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like i should point out that there isn't an exact time line on this. I do know is that the Tommy chapter thus far has taken place before the meta human boom, and the Clyde chapter are taking place slightly after. But they do meet up eventually. Its also been awhile since I've seen the shows, so I'm a little rusty on some key info. If wanted, I can give little updates on whats happened in some key points in Arrow, Flash, and Constantine that might be relevant later. I'm slowly developing a game plan on who I want in the story and how they might come in. And according to this chapter I somehow am involving the straight up comic book characters in this sooner than I expected. If there is an explanation for them too, I can do that or offer quick reference links or animated DC films. I just don't want there to be unnecessary confusion that I could avoid. Anyway! I hope you enjoy this. It ended up being longer than I expected.

Clyde had never been so thankful that Emmy was a good sleeper. Moving into Chas' place had been a lot more tiring than he thought it would be. Since Clyde was dead according to public record, and Emmy barley existed yet in terms of paper work and was also an infant, they didn't legally have any place to live. Chas, being the amazing guy that he is, let them move in with him for the time being until a plan can be put into action. Clyde found it a little ironic that he was breaking the law, by faking his death, in order to avoid living a life of crime. Which involved continuously breaking the law, like he was now. The silver lining here was for once, Clyde was actually trying to do the right thing here. The right thing for Emmy and himself, of course, but he liked to think that it still counted for something. 

While Clyde didn't actually have a lot of stuff, Emmy did. But it was all rather lightweight, and easy enough to pack into boxes. The only parts that weren't that easy to move was the crib and the change table. The crib being rather awkward to take apart and move without loosing any of the pieces, and then put back together in Chas' apartment. The change table was big and bulky and Clyde found himself wondering how the hell had they managed to get it into his former apartment? He didn't remember it being so hard the first time around. He was tempted to see if he could move it via mini tornado, but that seemed like a really bad idea in the long run. But by far, the hardest part was getting rid of the furniture that is no longer needed. Both Chas and Clyde really didn't think that they needed two couches in the small apartment. Sorting through and getting rid of unneeded stuff was a long tedious progress. And posting it on Craig's list was more annoying than Clyde thought it would be. It didnt help his case that he couldn't go out and risk selling this stuff himself, being dead and all. That was up to Chas. Clyde was already risking enough moving stuff into the small truck Chas borrowed form a "mate" he knows. 

All and all it took about a week to move everything out under the radar and into Chas' place on the outer metropolitan area of Central city. Central wasn't that big, so Chas actually live that far from them. But Clyde did appreciate all the effort Chas did to help them. It was moments like this where Clyde didn't like to think about what would have happened if Chas had gone back home to London like he had originally planned. When Clyde had asked about that, Chas just gave the vague answer "It was hard to look at the place I've called home all my life when I've now seen the nastiest of it's demons. It takes a little bit to come to terms with and I'm not quite ready to do that yet." Which was a fair answer, and to an extent Clyde understood what Chas was saying. Although he still felt like he was missing something in that statement. 

"So..." Chas started. They were siting on the couch in the main sitting area watching mindless junk on the T.V., both drinking a beer to celebrate the big move. Baby radio was sitting on the coffee table, and Emmy was asleep in her and Clyde's shared bedroom down the hall. "Have you thought about what will happen if or when Emmy's mother gets the news that your 'dead'?" 

Clyde hadn't gotten around to thinking about that. It was a valid question, and Clyde really didn't have an answer to it. Emmy's mother took off as soon as she was cleared to leave the hospital. They parted ways then and there had hadn't heard from each other since. Well, Clyde hadn't heard anything at least, and he said as much. 

"Honestly? I haven't thought about it. She made it clear that she would be done with us as soon as Emmy was born, and I haven't heard of anything since." Clyde shrugged and took a sip of beer. "If it comes up then I'll need to take it as it comes." 

Chas nodded, eyes still haven't left the screen. “I suppose that’s fair.” Then got up to throw his can into the recycling out on the small sundeck to Clyde’s right. 

Clyde wasn’t entirely sure if Chas was just saying that or if he really meant it. The man had apparently gotten a good poker face after dealing with some of the worst customers in his cab. Apparently, the worst of them being a chain-smoker called John. “Honestly Chas, I’m more worried on how I’m going to make money. Going back to stealing from ATMs is not the way to go, but I can’t just go work at a McDonald’s either. I think someone would notice eventually.” Clyde sighed and studied the simplistic patterns on his beer can. It was some local craft beer, with a whimsical steampunk theme. Little barrels with wings being the most notable on all the different ale cans. 

Chas sat back down on the couch next to him and grasped his shoulder in attempts to show support. “We don’t need to worry about that now, think of it as a sort of maternity leave if you like. I could get you to do odd jobs around if you like, when Emmy isn’t kicking up a fuss.” 

Once again, Clyde felt thankful. Not many people would have given him or his family this kind of support growing up. So, it made Clyde feel a little misty eyed when Chas was like this. Not that Clyde would ever show it. But he could find a way to show his appreciation.   
His thoughts were cut short when over the baby radio he could hear Emmy start to cry. Which was a little unexpected, since she was pretty good at staying asleep. Chas started to get up off the couch, but Clyde beat him to it. “It’s okay I’ve got it. She’s probably just hungry."

As Clyde approached his and Emmy’s room he could already tell there was something off. What first tipped him off was the smell. It wasn’t baby smell, or the smell that told the two men that it was time to change a diaper. This was a deep earthy stench, not like a forest or a field of flowers. It was more like the smell of compost that you could sometimes get a whiff of from the community gardens in the intense heat of summer. As Clyde crept closer he could hear a strange shushing noise. It sounded like human shushing, but it also had this odd whistle to it. And he swore he could hear leaves rustling. But there was no trees or bushes under Emmy’s window and they didn’t own any house plants. When Clyde quietly peaked around the corner of the open doorway he could see a figure looming over the edge of Emmy’s crib. Emmy was still wailing at being woken up by a strange person in her space. Clyde wasn’t actually sure if it was a person. It was more like a creature. Although it looked some what humanoid, it was also looked like it was stronger than any pro wrestler, having wider shoulders then anything Clyde had ever seen. It stood at least 7 or 8 feet tall, possibly even larger. The thing was covered in algae, leaves, and dirt. It looked as if plants were growing along with the algae all over it’s looming figure. If Emmy ever came to bug Clyde about monsters under her bed or in her closet when she got older, Clyde was going to happily check every damn night after this. 

The creature was still making shushing noises. Clearly trying to calm Emmy down. It had what seemed like a giant finger to it’s thin lips to match the noise. With its other hand it reached down towards Emmy and that’s when Clyde decided to throw a small lightning storm at it while screaming “Get away from her!” 

The monster crashed into the wall above Clyde’s bed, leaving it dented and with a hole. But, didn’t go all the way through. Clyde felt something slithering up his legs and grabbing hold of his calves and continuing up his body, trying to anchor him down. Clyde quickly shot small sparks at them to get them off, then sent a strong but well contained sand storm at the thing. While it wasn’t even close to defeating the creature, it was enough to subdue it for just enough time for Clyde to get Emmy out of her crib and into his arms. The creature did not look happy, it’s eyes dark and staring at them despite all the sand. 

“Stop.” It commanded. It’s voice sounded deep, male, and without any kind of accent. It didn’t come out as a growl, but more like a big boom. 

It was then that Chas came darting into the room. A small revolver pistol in hand. Clyde didn’t even know he had that, and somewhere in the back of his mind he made plans to get a heavy duty safe to put it in and up high, so Emmy couldn’t get it when she started walking. Clyde was around guns enough as a kid to not want his baby around them. Clyde’s strange off-track thoughts were cut off as Chas bellowed “Swamp Thing?! What the ever-loving fuck are you doing here?! Clyde stop the sandstorm!”

Clyde stopped the stand storm and held Emmy tighter to his chest bobbing her up and down in attempts to sooth her. All while still glaring at this ‘Swamp Thing’. The Swamp Thing met his gaze. Not glowering like Clyde was, but it’s eyes were firm. 

“Why don’t we move this to the kitchen? I can put on the kettle for tea and we can talk like civilized people.” Chas said. Hands out in a defensive position as if trying to calm down an angry dog. 

“That might be best” Swamp Thing said softly, who also nodded and took a quick glance at Emmy and Clyde. Clyde looked over at Chas, trying to non-verbally communicate his compliance. Clyde felt that Chas had some explaining to do.   
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
As it turns out, Chas and Swamp Thing went way back. They kept explanations brief and slightly cryptic. As Clyde understood it, they met through that terrible client of Chas’, who’s full name turned out to be John Constantine. John Constantine was originally from Liverpool but made a strange home for himself in London before he was exiled to New York for a bit. Chas worked as a taxi driver and had got caught up into John’s shit after one too many taxi rides with him. Constantine was a wizard of some sort, and who was kinda like a private investigator but for the occult world, which is how he met Swamp Thing, who is a magical swamp monster. After today, Clyde vowed to take all things occult a lot more seriously. After awhile the conversation turned from Swamp Thing and Chas explaining the very basics to Clyde, to the two of them talking over Clyde and sipping tea. Emmy, who had stopped crying when the kettle was done boiling, was already back to sleep. 

“What are you doing here Swamp Thing?” Chas asked, “I haven’t seen you in just over a year, and you pop up in Clyde’s room with no warning.” 

Swamp Thing looked down at his tea, looking slightly ashamed. If swamp creatures could blush, Swamp Thing would be doing just that. “There was been a disturbance in the middle east a few months ago. I cannot tell what it is, or where exactly the disturbance happened. Something is blocking the green. The green told me you where here with a powerful blonde man. It didn’t seem to notice that the man wasn’t John Constantine.” Swamp Thing then turned to Clyde, even more ashamed. “The green also didn’t tell me about a child being present, I offer my deepest apologies.” 

Clyde mulled it over. He had no fucking clue this ‘Green’ was, and he didn’t want to ask. He suspected he wouldn’t like the answer. “Its okay. I ask that you send a phone call first or knock on the door next time. Emmy might be sleeping and even though she’s a good sleeper, I would prefer to keep her asleep as long as possible when she feels the need to.” 

Swamp Thing nodded “I will make an effort if it is not in dire emergency.” 

Clyde nodded “All I ask.” 

Swamp Thing turned his attention back on Chas. “Where is John Constantine? Last I saw the two of you, you were both together.”

Chas shrugged “We parted ways a little while back, decided we needed a break from each other. Geraldine got mixed up in some business and we both decided to part ways till things calmed down a bit. I get a phone call every now and again, but that’s it.” 

Geraldine Chandler was someone who came up in conversation often enough between Chas and Clyde. Geraldine is Chas’ daughter who says with her mother, Chas’s ex-wife, Renee. The separated family kept in touch via email, and the daily morning phone call. Renee seemed lovely over the phone and offered helpful tips for when nothing Chas was doing was working when Emmy was being fussy. While Renee and Chas clearly had baggage and weren’t friends yet, they were on their way to friendship again. Which made Clyde happy. 

“Do you have a way I could find him?” Swamp Thing said. “The green can sense him, but it cannot locate where he is.” 

Chas shook his head. “He calls me, usually by pay phone. You know how much he sucks ass with cellphones.” 

Swamp Thing quickly looked at Clyde and Emmy before turning back to Chas. “Careful, small ears.” 

Chas spluttered “Hold up!” then he put his half empty cup on the table “of all the human habits you choose to pick up on, you pick up on that one? Seriously?”

This time, it was Swamp Thing that shrugged. “I’ve been spending time with Zatanna lately. She is a better role model than John Constantine on manners.” 

Chas gave a hoot of laughter, picking his cup back up “you’re not wrong there, mate.”

Then the conversation came to a halt of awkward silence. Zatanna had been mentioned to Clyde before, but usually as a passing comment or as a fond memory. But Clyde didn’t know much about her. But, he could now assume that she was apart of the magic gig. 

“You could come with me.” Swamp Thing said rather hesitantly “You have plenty of experience in our world, and the green trusts you and so do I.” 

Chas looked down into his mug, looking slightly bummed out. Clyde couldn’t help but wonder what the exact fuck Chas has been going through up until he met him to get enough occult experience to be trusted by a giant, powerful, swamp creature’s back up. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Chas sighed, and Swamp Thing looked as if he was about to say something, but Chas spoke up again. “I lost the powers, so I’m very normal and average right now. Lost them saving Geraldine, I don’t regret it. I also promised her to stay out of trouble, after what we went through.” 

Swamp Thing gave a small smile. Which caused the algae and the leaves around his mouth to twitch and wave. “While you are normal, you will never be average my dear friend.” 

Clyde blanched and butted into the lovely heart to heart conversation. “Wait, hold up! Powers?!” He turned to Chas “You have…sorry, HAD powers? You didn’t think to bring this up?” 

Chas looked a little sheepish “It wasn’t actually powers. It was more like a really weird spell. To put it simply, it made me kinda more durable. And how exactly do I bring that up in conservation without sounding crazy, even to a person with weather powers?” 

Clyde thought about it, it made a certain amount of sense. “So, how did you...”

Chas cut him off “Get them? If it ever comes up, don’t ever let John do very drunk experimental magic one you. Ever.” 

Clyde wasn’t planning to, but he would keep it in mind if he ever got to meeting them. 

“He could come.” Swamp thing said, nodding towards Clyde. “He was powers and is powerful enough to hold his own against me.” 

“Hold on what?” Clyde said, and was ignored by the two occult professionals. 

“Swamp Thing, he’s only had his powers for a few weeks, and he’s got a brand new baby girl. We don’t even know how big of an emergency this is! Clyde could be completely in over his head. Did you think about asking Zatanna? Maybe, Boston?” Chas said hesitantly. 

“Zatanna has her own problems right now. I haven’t bee able to find Boston either.” Swamp Thing said “I know this is risky, but it might be something that will be more of a problem the longer we leave it, and it’s been left for longer than it should be already.” 

“This green of your's sensed this right?” Clyde interrupted “Does it know for sure that this thing is dangerous?” 

The expression on Swamp Thing’s face resembled one of concern “The green doesn’t know, when the green doesn’t know something then its usually not good.” 

The four of them sat in silence for a good few minutes, mulling over the interesting case. Except Emmy of course, who was a baby and still sleeping. 

“Clyde, if this isn’t taken care of many people could very well suffer, the range of how many is uncertain, but possible. Things like this has happened before.” Swamp Thing said 

Clyde looked at Emmy. She was all swaddled up in his arms. Still asleep, and he reflected on why he chose to turn away from a life of crime. While it was some what for himself, it was mostly for her. He didn’t want her to be ashamed of him, to be ashamed that her dad was a cold blooded criminal. He wanted to be for once in his life, someone that a loved one like Emmy could be proud of. The exception of this being Mark, Mark enjoyed crime. He also wanted to take Emmy away from being at risk of being exposed to all the dangerous stuff that he grew up with. He thought of Chas and his family. Chas left the life of being an occult superhero because it was too dangerous for his family. What if doing the right thing put Emmy at risk too? 

Clyde raised his gaze to look Swamp Thing in the eyes “Is there anyway this could come back and bite us in the ass? Could it put Emmy and Chas and his family at risk?” 

Swamp Thing sighed “I do not know Clyde. I’ll be honest, it could very well do that. But at the same time, if we do nothing it might hurt them anyway. At this point there is no way to tell.” 

They were all silent again. Chas was looking at Clyde with a heavy look of concern on his face, but Clyde couldn’t get anything else off him. He wished that Chas could nod or something, give Clyde silent advice that could push him in the right direction. But, he knew that this wasn’t going to happen. 

Clyde nodded and looked down at Emmy’s angelic sleeping face and stroked her forehead. “Aright” He sighed “I’ll do it. What do you need me to do?”


	4. Congratulations! It's a cactus!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here's another one. Sorry it took so long, I've been tired. But writing this chapter helped calm down my brain which is a really, really good thing. One direction somehow made its way in here, I'm not a big one direction person but I've been listening to the happier stuff lately along with other boy bands (5SOS and such) to help with negative mental health stuff. Who knew something that drove me crazy not too long ago in high school would actually help me down the road? Well, I hope you find this decent enough!

The first time Tommy cried after he rose from the pit was when he found out One Direction spilt up. Loving One Direction was one of the few guilty pleasures that Tommy was able to keep almost secret for years. Tommy hid their songs in secret folders labelled “Naked Oliver Blackmail” and “Club things” for and other stupid names and disguised them as other songs on his phone. The only person Tommy suspected of knowing his secret was Thea, who shared a similar passion in her teenage years. She had given him too many knowing side eyes when he was trying to hold back his epic lip sync skills when she played them on the stereo during car rides to and from school. They were mostly fun, silly, and light hearted, especially in their beginning stages. One Direction perfect for when he just needed to be happy and goofy, especially when he was missing Oliver and Sara or when his Dad was on his back too much. Tommy kinda hoped that Thea would find and delete his stuff while he was…gone-ish. Even if he was still peeved with Oliver, a promise was a promise. Ollie could have his sweet porn stash. The split of One Direction was a link to his life before that was now gone. But, at least they got some sweet stuff before they split. The independent stuff from each of the former members are okay, but it wasn’t the same. One Direction was still in Tommy’s heart, and this time Tommy was going to share his love with the world! Even if Tommy’s world right now only really, only of John. John did not appreciate One Direction. As it turns out, John Constantine was a casual groupie of “The Clash”, and bands like Coldplay were considered only for bed wetters. John’s words, not Tommy’s. Tommy is okay with Coldplay, but you can’t twerk to Coldplay. Tommy can’t actually twerk to anything, despite hours of practice. The thoughts of twerking then reminded Tommy of Oliver. Who could twerk and could also twerk while doing a handstand. Fit asshole. Thinking of Oliver made Tommy a little sad, but he shook it off. He was too busy taking a sneek peek at this beginner’s spell book he found under the wardrobe. 

John had gone out to do some errands and piss off a few people. While Tommy wasn’t a clean freak by any means, even he couldn’t deal with the mess that was John’s flat. Tommy himself was also a slob, but Tommy grew up with cleaning maids. Tommy had also never really cleaned anything in his life, so with what little cleaning supplies he had, and armed with many google searches he se tot work. Gathering beer bottles and cans together, removing dust, putting things aside for laundry later, doing dishes, everything wikkihow said to do. When Tommy was vacuuming and mopping he kept finding stuff under couches and chairs and what not. Under the beds was surprisingly clear, but it was under the wardrobe that got interesting. John didn’t bother to hide any of the magic stuff as near as Tommy could tell. Most of the books were thrown around the apartment, something Tommy had fixed. But this book was wrapped in a t-shirt and had been carefully placed under the dark, thick legs of the wardrobe in the entry way hall. There was also another beer can, and a left shoe but that wasn’t the point. When Tommy unwrapped the old t-shirt of the book it seemed to draw him in. Stuck in a state of wonder that made him forget other things he needed to do. The book wasn’t leather like many other the others, rather is was more cloth like. It reminded Tommy of a cool journal his Mom had brought back once from Africa with neat paper. Tommy opened the first page to find penned near the top centre of the page “An Apprentice’s Guide to Beginners Magic”. Tommy then turned the page to see an Index and skimmed the options. Preface, History, Various Practices, Safety, Demons, Spirits, Pyro practice, Levitation, object shifting, tea leaves, Plant companions, Magical creatures, and So On. Tommy wasn’t just being lazy, there was actually a chapter called “So On”. Tommy flipped to the chapter on plant companions and starting going at it. There were a lot of cool pictures, and notes made by various people within the sides of the pages and in between the lines. There was also an incredibly detailed sketch of a vagina next to a paragraph on honey plants. Tommy had to wonder how long it took, and what the various shades of pencil crayons they were using, cause that was one good piece of art. He also had to wonder why the hell there was even a vagina drawing in a spell book. Tommy came across a unit called “Plant Familiars” and gave it a quick read. If Tommy wanted to try magic, at least once in his life, he might as well try making a little friend for himself.  
Tommy left the book open on the now clean coffee table and took a quick look out the window. Down the street there was a little hole in the wall grocery place that also sold some potted plants. He then closed the drapes again and slipped on an extra pair of John’s shoes and a coat that clearly didn’t belong to John. It was way too big for both John and Tommy and “Chas” was sharpied onto the tag at the back. The shoes were tight but would do the trick to walk down the street and back. Tommy also grabbed a twenty-pound bill that he found in the couch cushions. Then Tommy snuck out the door, locking it behind him and tucking a key in his pocket. 

The shoes were already rubbing the skin away at the backs of Tommy’s heels and at the sides of his pinky toes by the time he had walked down the stairs and gotten to the front lobby. It was no wonder why John didn’t wear these shoes. As Tommy walked to the front door of the building he took a deep breath and stepped outside. Tommy hadn’t been in a normal looking city, surrounded by normal non-crazy assassin people for awhile now and it was both a beautiful feeling and an awkward one. For a moment Tommy wasn’t sure if he should even be here. He wasn’t sure if he knew how to be a normal person anymore, he wasn’t sure if he should even be around people. He wasn’t even sure if he could talk to them anymore, he sure as hell didn’t feel like he worked at the same wavelength anymore. A lot about him had changed, Tommy knew that much. He could feel it. He was dangerous now, even if he wasn’t dangerous enough to The League’s standards. Tommy tried to shake off those feelings. One way or another Tommy had to slide his way back into society again, he had to blend in. Stealth even amongst other people in plain sight was a big thing that The League had pushed. You can’t keep running in the shadows forever, sometimes it was best to be in the light. Also, Tommy missed people, he missed being with people. It was why he loved clubbing so much, the feeling of being connected with people kept him happy, weather he was dancing with someone or if he was just chilling with a drink in the corner. He wouldn’t be able to stay happy by just himself and John, he had to go out. 

Even with the city smog, the feeling of being outside the apartment felt fantastic. Tommy hadn’t left the building in the two weeks since he got there. The farthest he had ever gone was the front lobby. Tommy crossed the street and looked at the old building he just walked out of. It wasn’t first class living, but it wasn’t the shittiest building Tommy had ever laid eyes on. It looked stable and safe, although it also looked like it needed a new paint job. The green and crackling paint around the windows, front door and gutters looked as if it were just breaking and fluttering off whenever a light breeze picked up. The sidewalk outside was a little uneven due to the tree roots from the tree in the small front garden, which was well kept and flowering. Tommy could smell the flowers from across the street. Place had like 104 chimneys. Tommy thought that was weird, but as he looked up and down the street it looked as it that was pretty normal. After establishing that he could probably remember where he lived, Tommy started to head down the street to the small grocery shop. 

The street wasn’t busy today, and neither was the shop. The door was propped open with a newspaper to let in the nice warm spring breeze and quite Italian pop music was playing on a small radio up on a shelf behind the cash desk. A man with quite the beer belly was sitting behind the counter scrolling through his phone and taking the occasional look around before sipping at the plastic water bottle sitting on the counter in front of him. The man caught sight of Tommy and gave a small gentle smile matched with a nod and looked back down at his phone. Tommy put on a tinny smile on his own face, just to avoid looking more freaked out then he felt. The place was worn, but clean. A woman in the back corner of the room was holding a broom sweeping a small pile of dirt into a metal dust pan secured in a small corner to keep it from getting away. She made a point of not giving any Tommy any attention, Tommy was both hurt and grateful as all hell. The tiled floor was already stained, and Tommy wondered if the lady could tell which was dirt and what was stain, cause Tommy sure as hell couldn’t tell the difference. The only other customer in the cramped place was a young man near the candy section, next to the register. He clearly was tried and was having a tough time choosing a snack. Tommy felt as if the dude had been standing there for awhile. Tommy then turned around too study the potted plants and slightly wilted rose bouquets near the front store window. The selection was limited, as Tommy had expected, but he didn’t think he would need a complicated plant. The book said most any plant would do as long as you had the space and the means to care for it. 

Tommy walked closer to the plants, already turning his attention away from the bouquets. While the book didn’t say, Tommy though it would be rather obvious that the plant would probably need to be alive. There were multiple tiny succulent plants, and while they were cute Tommy didn’t feel like he had any immediate connection to them. The book had said while immediate connection was preferred, it wasn’t necessary. Tommy figured that since he had absolutely no prior experience with stupidly fucking around with magic, he might as well stupidly fuck around with magic as accurately as possible. He turned his attention to the other plants that had flowers. The labels said they were orchids and also kindly gave some watering and sun instructions. But again, no connection. They were pretty, but the ones with the long stems looked rather frail. There were others with just big leaves coming out of the pot with was preferable, but still no pull. There was many herb plants such as basil and parsley, but they seemed high maintenance. Tommy didn’t kill plants, but he was far from an expert. In a little metal trolley in front of wooden plant table sat a cactus. It didn’t have any flowers, and while it was mostly very green and firm, the ends were slightly pink. It also had a sale sticker next to the original price. Tommy searched for a little plant sign and pulled it out. The label called it a “Christmas Cactus” and it seemed to be rather low maintenance, and rather sturdy. It flowered around Christmas time and Tommy wanted to immediately take it home and put it in a cool pot. Tommy figured this might be the connection the book was talking about. Holding his cactus securely in both hands, Tommy looked around at the Knick knacks, spare pots, and buckets for something that might be better for his plant than the plastic pot it was currently sitting in. He noticed that the lady and her broom were gone, Tommy didn’t know where. The dude was still looking at candy, but had moved farther down the section, only the back of his head was in few. The cashier was still very interested in his phone. There was a bag of potting soil, but nothing else pleased Tommy. While a new pot wasn’t necessary, Tommy wanted to show love right from the get go. Build a better relationship that way. Tommy’s guide lines for building a good, healthy, family like relationship was a little flawed he realised. He was basically building this on what little time he had with his Mom and working on doing the opposite of what his Dad did since the day of her funeral. Tommy hoped that would be good enough and he could build on that later. Placing the plant and soil on the counter drew the cashier out of whatever he was scrolling through on his phone. While the cashier rang the items up, Tommy took out his wallet.  
“Eight-fifty” said the cashier, voice gentle and Italian accent strong but also soft. The man seemed kind, and very tired. Tommy handed him the bill. A swift zipping sound quickly followed by a louder ‘ding’ of a bell came from behind the counter. The Italian man was looking down at his hands, gathering change from the register. The man then handed Tommy two bills and a small handful of coins, which was quickly shoved into a pocket. Immediately after Tommy put the cash into a pocket, he forgot which pocket he put it in. Tommy took his cactus and the man behind the counter started to fit the potting soil in it. The Lady was back now and was restocking cans beside the fridge. The dude was still by the candy, back closer to where he was when Tommy came in and Tommy got the feeling that the dude in the candy section wasn’t really looking at the candy. Tommy nodded to the cashier and walked out of the store. 

Tommy didn’t look behind him as he walked down the street. He didn’t think the candy dude was following him, but he still felt like there wasn’t something right with the guy. Tommy ducked into a vintage, thrift store of sorts and started looking for pots or anything else that would hold his cactus. He looked at the door, watching to see if anyone followed him in. No one. Tommy looked for other exits and saw two different fire exits. This store was more social, he could hear a chatter on another radio from in a break room in the back. A teenage girl was browsing some vintage jewelry, and a group of cheerful middle aged ladies were laughing and talking while going through used cooking pots and pans. Every once and while pointing to laugh as a funny vase, or awe at a pair or adorable prosocline salt and pepper shakers. Tommy looked back at the door, still no one. 

Tommy moved into where the sign hanging from the roof said “Bowls, pots, vases, buckets” were. He would look around the rest of the store too, but he thought this would be his best bet. Most of the stock was rather run down, not fit for a cactus, or to breakable for his tastes. But he did settle for what looked like an adorable clay honey pot from Whiney the Pooh. It seemed bright and cheerful and exactly what he and the cactus needed. It had clearly been a plant pot before since there was still left-over dirt stuck to the edges and a hole for water had been drilled in the bottom. Very satisfied with his find of the day, Tommy made his way to the register. There was no one behind it, but a very clean bell was sitting on the desk. The ladies were still in the cooking ware, now piling various things into shopping baskets like a game of Tetris. The teenage girl had moved her way into looking at the old and used books, skimming the titles and pulling what she liked off the shelves. Tommy rang the bell.  
Out from the break room came a young woman. She was rosy and curvy, her hair tucked on top of her head in a messy pencil bun, smile honest and wide. She looked like a girl that a young man would want to bring home to please his mother, she looked like a girl Tommy would have flirted with before and had a two weeks fling before falling in love with some other girl all over again. He still wanted to flirt a little but held back. He wasn’t sure what he wanted now, he wasn’t interested in the one-night stands and the quick flings, he hadn’t since Laurel. He wasn’t sure if he was even still capable of flirting, he still felt like he totally could, but at the same time he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to anymore. It was hard to explain, even to himself. But, Tommy figured once he was in a better position to get back in the swing of things he would find out how he developed later.  
“Did you find everything okay today?” She asked, smile still wide. She was holding the pot now, spinning it around, trying to search for a price tag.  
“Got what I needed to today” Tommy smiled back, readjusting the handles of the plastic bag in his hand. “And I got a nice walk out of it, finally got some fresh air.”  
The woman let out a chuckle, she looked up at him through her eyelashes. “American?”  
Tommy nodded “Yup, born and raised!”  
“So, what are you doing all the way over here? Vacationing?” she asked she had found the price the and was punching figures into the computer.  
Tommy shrugged and came up with the closest thing he could on the spot “Sort of, staying with a friend at the moment. We were both going though some stuff and needed the company”  
The woman tilted her head to the side, smile softer and sympathetic. “That’s great that neither of you are alone.” She looked at her screen again and hit the enter button. “And your total is 7 pounds.”  
Tommy set the bag down on the ground and went through his pocket and only found the keys to the flat. He put the cactus down on the counter and went through the over pocket of the jacket and found the change. After counting through it he gave the woman what she needed and she rang it through. She then started to take out a bag but Tommy shook his head.  
“Naw, its okay don’t worry about it. I’m pretty sure I can fit it into this one here.” Tommy lifted the plastic one into view and give it a shake.  
The woman smiled “Sure no problem!” Then she nodded towards the cactus “Have you named it yet? Plants need a name, helps them grow.” There was a florping noise as the printer spat out a receipt and the woman put it into the pot. Tommy then grabbed the pot and shoved it into the bag.  
“Not yet. I actually just got him.” Tommy didn’t think about naming the cactus, but it seemed like it would be a good idea, especially for bonding. He smiled over at the lady “Any ideas?”  
She giggled and shrugged “I don’t know, It’s your plant!”  
Tommy gave a small wave and they exchanged pleasantries, and Tommy disappeared out the door. He gave a quick glance around him and deemed it save and started to walk towards the apartment building. He didn’t think he was being followed, but he quickened his pace, just to be safe. 

Immediately after Tommy got through the front door, he kicked off the awful shoes. They had rubbed his feet raw and he wouldn’t have been surprised if he got some blisters. Tommy put the cactus and plastic bag on the counter and put the shoes and coat back into the hallway wardrobe. He took the change out of the pocket and placed it in the bowl near the door. Tommy then googled how to repot a cactus and went to work. The tutorials said to wash the new pot out with soapy water and dry before repotting, which Tommy did. Adding the new dirt to the new pot seemed easy enough although he made a small mess on the counter. Taking the cactus out of it’s old pot was a bit of a challenge. While the cactus wasn’t particularly fragile or prickly, Tommy was still worried about damaging the plant. He found it rather difficult to be gentle with it while removing the cactus was quite stuck in there. Finally, he got it out and put it in the new pot and looked again at the instructions. It said that the plant needed fertilizer. Tommy didn’t buy fertilizer and had a small freak out. Plant caring was more stressful then he thought it would be. He looked closer at the details on the bag of potting soil, which also had its own set of instructions. The soil said it had its own slow releasing fertilizer mixed in and Tommy let out a sigh of relief. He then started to add more soil around the edges of the new pot, and packing it in. Tommy then watered his cactus and took a moment to smile down at his new plant. The lady was right he needed to name it. He looked at the plant. No name came to mind. He the googled baby names. Tommy found that the current trend of naming children included sticking “Y” s into places they really didn’t need to be. Tommy settled on calling the cactus Isaac. It looked like an Isaac. As much as anything could look like an Isaac really. As much as he was tempted, it really didn’t look like a Zayn. Tommy opened the drapes and put Isaac by the window and went back to the book on the table. 

The spell seemed rather simple. At least compared to some of the other stuff Tommy saw while he skimmed the book. Nothing that involved split from a fire lizard from a small town in Guam or going to another realm to get a drop of pollen from some purple towel eating plant. All Tommy needed to do it to use sea salt to draw a pattern on the ground with him and Isaac in the middle. Isaac would also get some new art on the bottom of his pot made of lavender wax. The book didn’t call for lavender, but the only candle Tommy had on hand happened to be lavender scented. An incantation was involved, and Tommy was thankful that one of the spell book’s past owners penciled in a pronunciation guide along with the script. 

Tommy put down an old beach blanket he found earlier that day before making the salt circle pattern. He just mopped and swept earlier that day, there was no way that he wanted to do that again. After he was sure he got the rather straightforward design right Tommy grabbed Isaac of the window sill. Tommy sat down in the middle of the circle and put Isaac down in front of him. Tommy lit the candle and waited for a bit for the wax to start getting melty. Tommy lifted Isaac up and used an old receipt, twisted into a makeshift paint brush to draw the other more complex symbol on the bottom of the pot. He blew on it to help it dry a little faster and then put Isaac back on the ground. Then Tommy picked up the spell book and started to chant. Tommy had completely zoned out as he read aloud the words. He was completely aware of everything that was going on. Which was pretty much was a guy speaking nonsense to a plant on a blanket in the middle of a salt circle of sorts. Totally normal. But it was also like Tommy was everywhere at once, it was like being in hyper focus while being high as a kite. Then when Tommy finished the spell, everything became still and stable. All and all, nothing seemed to have happened other than Tommy developing an intense magic whammy and some motion sickness. Tommy looked around and wondered if maybe he accidently drew his circle into more of an oval and tried to get up. Key word being tired, because when he made the moves to do so a explosive magic wave came from Isaac sweeping across the flat and Tommy flew back due to the force of it all the way to the kitchen. Tommy hit the small kitchen island and took out a cupboard and possibly a stool. Before he passed out he worried about Isaac, and the fact that all his cleaning was probably useless now. Fuck him figuratively and backwards. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
When Tommy awoke, he had been moved to the couch. Without sitting up he tried to do his best at looking around. He’d seen enough movies to know that sitting up right after being taken out by a thing was not a great move. The stools were stood back up and the crack in the cupboard had been patched with a layer of duct tape. A few things looked a little out of place, but nothing really had been damaged. Apart where Tommy got a little personal with the kitchen. Tommy then tired to sit up and discovered that he had been tucked him with the beach blanket. The salt had been removed. John was lounging in an arm chair with a cup of tea in one hand and a beer in the other. He was also smirking. Not his classic John Constantine smirk, but a full blown smirk that was like on some new John level. Tommy was still trying to find some sort of measuring system for various John smirks. On the little side table next to the arm chair sat Isaac, who at first glance looked fine and not any different from when Tommy took him inside the apartment. On closer inspection, Isaac seemed to be moving. His little cactus branched seemed to be rippling or waving like the ocean or like a strong wind through a field of hey. No matter which clique metaphor you use, it’s leaves glowed in a similar way that sunlight would sway on both.  
“Congratulations! It’s a cactus!” John cheered, interrupting Tommy’s study of Isaac. Tommy’s brain was now quickly catching up to the rest of the world now. John then took a swig of beer and picked up the spell book that was hiding behind Isaac’s pot. “Now, why don’t you tell me exactly where and how you found the book?”


End file.
